


The Smartest Thing

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: “Now see,” Tony says, “that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”“I haven’t said anything in like a half an hour. You haven’t shut up long enough.”





	The Smartest Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: This is my harmony. If I could be for you, what you are to me. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

“I know you don’t feel the same way. And I’m not telling you this as an argument, or as a way of changing your mind. But the words were choking me, you know, knotted like fishing line, and I’m tired of not being able to breathe, of being afraid to open my mouth when you were around for fear of that knot getting out. I wanted to tell you the truth, is what I mean. A wholly selfish act.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just sits blinking back in the darkness. Above them, around, the skyline of the greatest city in the world went on its merry way, lights everywhere, life, while on the roof of the tower, pitched high within it all, Tony can’t stop talking.

“I realize that, how self-centered a confession of love really is. Because it’s an act of ceaseless, stupid hope; before you speak, you can always let yourself believe that there’s a chance that they care for you, too--that you’ve just misread the signals or something, that part of you is never going to believe that anybody could possibly love you, especially somebody so _good_.”

“I’m not good, Tony.”

“Bullshit. Yes you are. I didn’t say you were perfect. I’ve seen you lose your shit, Rogers. I’ve seen you make bad choices and run your head straight into a wall and I’ve seen people die on your watch. They’ve died on mine, too.” He swallows, softens his voice. “So not perfect, either of us. But you’re fundamentally good, like you can’t help it; deep down in your heart or soul or inner magma or whatever, you care about people and you have to everything that you can to make their lives better, keep them safe. You have to. It's a drive. Don’t deny it, Cap. I’ve got 20 miles of newsreel footage and a library’s worth of books to back me up. Don’t make me cite my sources. I will.”

Steve tips his chair--one of the lightweight metal things they carried up from the dining room--backwards and laughs, a warm bark that curls its way around Tony’s shoulders. “All right. All right. If it keeps you from writing a dissertation on the subject, I’ll cede the point.”

“Now see,” Tony says, “that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

“I haven’t said anything in like a half an hour. You haven’t shut up long enough.”

“I’m trying to tell you how I feel about you. It’s not fucking easy. I don’t know exactly what to say.”

A ghost of a touch on his knee, the whisper of a warm hand. “So you thought you’d say everything all at once, is that right? And hope a word or two sticks to the wall?”

Heat rushes up Tony’s neck, pools in his cheek, pounds in his ears. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Can I offer a suggestion?”

“Sure. Notes? I’ll take notes. I’ll always take notes.”

No more a whisper, a fist, a turn of Steve’s hand, a tug, and they’re pressed knee to knee, face to face. “Next time you get it in your head that you have to treat sharing your feelings like a bloodletting, just kiss them instead.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Saves a lot of time. And it’ll be a hell of a lot easier on the object of your affection.”

“Will it?” He’s pitching forward, leaning like an iris towards the sun. “How do you know? Maybe I kiss like a drunken labrador. Lots of spit and tongue everywhere. You don’t know.”

Steve’s still holding his knee, but the other hand drifts up to meet him, to catch the curve of his face. “Tony, can I make another suggestion?”

“I’m all ears.”

Steve taps a thumb over his lips and holds it there, firm. “If you’d shut up for two seconds, maybe I can find out.”


End file.
